Title: Song of Justice
Author: Kelandris the Mad
Fandom: View Askewniverse, post J&SBSB. Spoilers in a vague way for the end of that film.
Pairing: Jay/Bob, some mention of Jay/Justice, some mention of Banky/Hooper
Rating: Songfic, AngstyFic, kind of lack of sex fic R at best and that only for possible language and mentions of homosexuality.
Status: posted to the site 5 October 2004
Archive: The traditional places. If you don't know what the traditional places are, you might want to write and ask. And here's how:
Feedback: Kelandris
Series/Sequels: Aaaagh. No sequels. (She says, leaving an ending that screams sequel. Crap.)
Disclaimers: Kevin Smith, View Askew Productions, Jason Mewes, Scott Mosier, and Miramax have creative control and ownership of Jay and Silent Bob. I am just an insignificant slasher who wants the boys to have fun now that they've retired. I'm not even charging them.
Notes: Bad night. Can I just say that? Bad night with partner arguing with me for no reason I can imagine. Somehow related to not wanting to get cat food. Aaaagh. It translated weirdly into the story.
Summary: Bob wishes he knew the right words to say to Jay. Not for the first time.
Warnings: Only on this side of the screen. The tale's pretty plebian, actually. PJ Harvey song, though--guttural pain on parade.

"Song of Justice"
by Kelandris the Mad

*Oh my lover
Don't you know it's all right?
You can love her
You can love me at the same time*

The dark-haired man walked off the stage, lighting a cigarette by one of the side doors, inhaling the rough smoke into his lungs. He watched as Officer Willenholly, his expression indulgent, uncuffed the girl in the orange jumpsuit. He watched, his eyes narrowing slightly, as Jay walked her off into a corner to talk.

He remembered earlier this morning. They'd gotten back from Hollywood a few months back, and the premiere of the film based--at least in part--on their lives had been the night upcoming, in New York. A limousine had picked them up at six that night. But that was hours from when Bob had awoken, rolling over and looking at Jay. They were both nervous that day, everywhere but with each other. There, the ease of long practice had made Bob turn in the bed they shared, kissing down Jay's neck, pulling him into his arms.

*Much to discover
I know you don't have the time but
Oh my lover
Don't you know it's all right?*

And then they had gone to the premiere. And Justice had been at the after party. How could he deny Jay the chance, however slight, at having something conventional in his unconventional life? He didn't have the supportive family behind him or the good childhood or the strong education, or any of a thousand other little details that made someone a solid, normal person. It was one reason he and Jay got along, because he wasn't exactly the most normal soul himself. A peace-loving member of the Russian Mafiya, from a strong family that to this day expected him to marry, settle down, and start raising little Gradenkos. Hopefully with some sturdy Ukrainian girl with long hair and wide, child-bearing hips.

He looked at Jay again, smiling. Well, he picked a lover with long hair, anyway...

*Oh my sweet thing
Oh my honey thighs
Give me your troubles
I'll keep them with mine*

Blowing smoke rings, three at a time that expanded out from each other, touching and dissipating, he slipped from the side door, emerging into the street. On the other hand, he couldn't just stand there and watch Jay hold Justice's hand, staring limpidly into her glass-covered eyes. Especially when he'd rather be the one holding Jay's hand. It was frustrating. It was irritating. It was depressing.

"Hey, big guy," he heard. He looked up. Hooper and Banky were just coming around the corner. Bob nodded at both men, puffing another ring into the air.

"So, you comfortable with the celluloid thing yet?"

Bob shook his head. As if. He glanced back at the closed door of the bar. God, if they were only back in New Jersey. Away from all this film insanity. Away from Justice. With whom Jay was still planning a life, in a few years. And what the hell would he do then? Stuck with half a love and his other half in love with someone else. It wasn't fair. But then, neither was life.

*Take at your leisure
Take whatever you can find but
Oh my sweet thing
Don't you know it's all right?*

Banky raised his hands. "Hey, I cut you in on the royalties, what more do you want?"

Frowning, Bob looked at him. What the hell? Hooper touched his shoulder, looking patiently between them.

"He means, sweetness, he doesn't want to feel guilty anymore about trying to pull a fast one on a guy he'd been dismissing as an insignificant stoner. And you, darling, you should march your ass in there and *tell* that boy a few things."

Both men stared at Hooper. He backed up, shaking his head.

"What? It's no secret you didn't think they'd know enough to mind the film being made. Am I right or not?"

Banky nodded slowly, looking dazed.

"And it's also no secret how you feel about Jay," he said, turning to Bob. "My god, if you had a loudspeaker there'd be a scream every time you saw him with that girl."

Bob swallowed. Banky peered at Bob. Then he turned towards Hooper.

"You mean...Jay and Bob are fags?"

*It's all right
It's all right
There's no time
So it's all righ-igh-ight*

Bob clenched his fists, dropping the butt of the cigarette to the ground, grinding it out decisively. Banky stepped back towards Hooper, who pushed him away.

"After that crack, I *should* let you get your ass kicked, here, but I shall enlighten your sorry existence. *Again*. I b'lieve our boy Bob, here, would more comfortably define himself as bi. *If*, that is, he's into playing the definition game, which to date hasn't seemed to be his gig."

Hooper looked at Bob. "That about right?"

He shrugged. He lit another cigarette. He puffed out another smoke ring on the air, this one twisting into an upright infinity symbol before stretching into invisibility.

"And you are the *last* one, *mon ami*, to question anyone's sexuality."

"Hey, hey, I am not your--" He sighed, rubbing his eyes. "Oh, what the hell. Whatever, Hoop."

*What's that color
Forming around your eyes
Once my lover
Tell me that it's all right*

Bob lifted an eyebrow, but said nothing.

"Think your Jay's much more fluid about the whole sexuality thing, isn't he?"

**Pretty much.** The blond bombed-shell could take or leave relationships as long as he got sex. He didn't seem to care with who.

And most days Bob was pretty sure Jay at least liked him, but love? He wasn't sure it was possible that Jay *could* love anyone. He wasn't even sure he loved *Justice*. But he was playing the love card hard and heavy, which was depressing at times.

*Just another
Before you go...go away*

"So what are you gonna do?"

Bob smiled weakly at Hooper.

**I'm gonna finish this cigarette. I'm going to stand out here for a while, see if I can get just a little colder than I am right now. Then I'm going to go back inside and do my best not to watch Jay and Justice. Then--**

The door from the bar opened, spilling out two giggling forms. Jay and Justice, arms around each other, looked at the odd tableau of forms already in the alley.

"Oh. Hey. Sorry, dudes. Didn't know this was a private confab. C'mon, Boo-Boo, less go find the bathrooms!"

Justice looked at Bob's still face, at Hooper's irritated one, then returned her attention to Jay.

"Yeah, okay," she said, and they went back inside.

Bob stubbed out the second cigarette. He didn't light another.

"Changed my mind," he said softly. "You want to get drunk?"

"Excellent idea," said Hooper. "C'mon, Bank, you're buyin'."

They turned, Hooper opening the door to the bar. Banky hurried after them, looking worried.

"Why do *I* have to buy the drinks?"

"Because you're the one that says so many stupid things, love. Now get your ass inside."

*Oh my lover
Why don't you just say my name?
And it's all right
Say it's all right
There's no time*

(Song is "O My Lover" by PJ Harvey)
Kelandris the Mad
I'm weaker than I used to be

go back
wanna read another one
tired already

Write me

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